


Feel Good For Me

by AParisianShakespearean



Series: Immortal Longings [4]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Ken Doll Android Anatomy | Androids Have No Genitalia (Detroit: Become Human), Smut, a touch of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 03:35:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18065834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AParisianShakespearean/pseuds/AParisianShakespearean
Summary: She asks him to feel good for her. He obeys.





	Feel Good For Me

How did they end up like that? It was a long and complicated story that began before the Revolution, when she was just a girl with snow in her reddish hair and tears in her brownish eyes. How did end up in love with her? It was all her, all her and her soul and her everything, and it was long and complex and deserved it’s own story. But Connor knew exactly how he ended up sprawled on her bed, her on top and straddling him. Oh, he knew all too well.

She was beautiful. She made him feel good. Most of all, she wanted to be that barest form of herself with him. Lazy afternoons were made for long and drawn out sessions of love, and he could think of no greater heaven than an eternal afternoon with her in the late sun, naked and on top of him and their skins different but the same connected and pressed together.

“You’re so beautiful.”

He tittered at the praise. Often she teased of his preening and how he knew how good looking he was. He was neither a bout of luck or a random collection of genes and genetics, that which made his human lover so beautiful, but someone forged and assembled in somewhere clinical and cold. Whoever made him decided on an appearance of what they maybe perceived as a handsome and nonthreatening looking man, but they did so insidiously. Above all, he was an object to maim and solve. A thing. 

But oh, she found him beautiful and that was all that mattered. If he knew he was handsome before, CyberLife’s devious way to make accomplishing his mission easier, she made him radiant with love and adoration. She made him more beautiful.

“You’re lovelier,” he said.

She hummed approvingly, stretching out her arms and spreading her palms against his thighs. He could come by the sight of her. The ends of her curls kissed her shoulders, her shoulders were outlined by sun and shadow. Her eyes were wide and heavy with lust, lips slightly parted. She had softness to her but that made her more beautiful and pleasing to touch, her hips wide, perfect for his hands to grab. Her breasts were taut and flushed with arousal. She was a painting from the museum come to life. Her heart rate was accelerated, he sensed it as she dug her nails into his thighs. Fuck, he wanted her to touch him everywhere, he wanted to touch her everywhere…

She swiveled against his hips. He hummed in bliss at the wetness of her arousal pooling against him. He was going to fuck her with his fingers, have her come on top of him, but her hands wrapped around his wrists before he could spread her and circle her clit. She kept his hands pinned over head until she was certain he would be good for her and let her lead the dance. He was intrigued. He would give her no problems. Their foreheads touched, noses touches, but she wouldn’t let their lips touch. She held his face in her small hands, cradled his face and let her lips ghost over him. A small moment before, a reverence before. Oh, to have the love of a good and kind woman who loved with everything. He wrapped his arms around her, She kissed him both hard and soft and he moaned. 

“Sophie…”

“That’s right,” she whispered. “I’m yours..” 

The lazy drag of her nails along the line of his shoulder was akin to a small spark of electricity. She rose again as she caressed his arm. Her palm slid down until their hands interlocked.She kissed his palm and every digit before pressing his palm between her breasts, against her beating heart. She squeezed his hand and his hand deactivated underneath her skin.

When someone tells her he loves her, so she said once, she would want to love them back so much it was like the sun, and she would have to spend every minute of every day making them feel good. “Feel good for me,” she said as he rose and she wrapped her arms around him. “Connor, feel good for me…”

“Only for you.”

He buried his head against the crook of her neck, nipped softly against the line and kissed at the small red marks he made against her heated skin. Heat rate elevated, body temperature rising, she leaned back in bliss before unguided instinct led her to grasp his chest and his back. Where she touched, skin deactivated and dissolved, and he was sinking against the pillows, arms spread out, her body draping over him. She whispered things as she touched of how beautiful he was, how much she loved him, how she wanted him since she saw him and she had him now and she would cherish him. 

“You make me feel so alive,” she whispered against his ear, bestowing little kisses against his cheek and neck, “Connor. Connor. Darling. Sweetheart. Love. You came to me, you decided to be mine, and—”

I love you she whispered as he he succumbed to his body, succumbed to her. He felt aflame, satiated by a thousand electrical shocks that shook his body to the core. It felt good. She asked him to feel good for her and he answered a thousand times. 

He laughed in his little afterglow, shielded his eyes from her as she continued to pepper his face with kisses. She joined him in laughter and that was heaven, naked bodies, laughter, love. 

“Sophie,” he muttered, their lips meeting in a kiss, “I don’t deserve this.”

“Yes you do,” she whispered, “You deserve all the love in the world.” 

He told her he loved her, she told him I love you too, yet why was it now that he he wanted to cry, cry like he did after he broke the red wall and fell into the river with Markus and the others? He bit his lip to stop the tears, but he did not trust himself, and no, no, no, he didn’t want her to see him cry. Not then, when she made him feel so good, so loved. 

He wrapped his arms around her, cradled her, and set her atop the pillows so he was the one in control. She gasped when her head hit the pillows, grinned wickedly when he made himself the one in control. If it were any other time he would have taken his time, given her the reverence and worship she deserved and what she gave to him, but forget, forget rung through his mind, and he succumbed to devouring her, everywhere and all at once. When he kissed her thighs she parted for him, grabbed his hand when he laved at her clit. She tasted like so much but Sophie most of all. His chin and jaw was drenched with her, digits coated as he pumped in and out, circling it around too and making her arch against the pillow. She dug the balls of her feet into his back and he felt his skin peel away there. Fuck, fuck, fuck, it was good to make her feel good, because in making her feel good he could forget that–

She came, trembling around his open mouth. She wanted no time to recover. She wanted him on top of her, her arms opening wide and eyes begging for him, and because he would do anything she would ask, die for her even, he pressed their bodies together and kissed her hard. She tasted what he tasted, his favorite taste in the world. 

“Thank you,” she muttered as she rubbed his back, wrapped her leg across him, keeping him there. “Thank you so much my–”

“Don’t thank me,” he asked her as they kissed again. “I want to love you.” He wanted to make her bloom and come alive.

“I want to love you too.” 

How could that be possible, he thought, to feel a thousand times more intimate and naked after the act had already passed, as they gazed at each other. She studied every part of his face as he wiped the perspiration from her brow, smoothed her hair away. But he loved the curve of her cupid’s bow, her right eyebrow that was more arched than her left, her slightly prominent bridge and button nose. Most of all he loved her brown but not brown eyes, wide and full and adoring him. She did adore. She loved. And he–

He wasn’t made for love but he was learning all the same. But there was always beauty in the learning.


End file.
